Always a bridesmaid...

So I was having drinks with a friend the other night and we were talking about marriage. Well, weddings, really. And we were discussing the cutthroat competition there is to stand up in weddings.

Not for the men.

Men are just like, "Dude. BACHELOR PARTY."

They don't care about being in the wedding.

They just want to drink in support of the wedding.

I'm not talking about them.

I'm talking women here.

How many is she going to have? Who's she going to ask? She's making us wear what?

People assume that everyone wants to be in their wedding. And probably, most do.

But honestly, I'm not one of them.

I'm actually considering not making friends with single people anymore.

Because. I. Don't. Want. To. Be. In. Your. Wedding.

I'm way too old to wear a $300 black/brown/periwinkle/midnight blue/or peach dress and stand next to 12 other women in the same $300 black/brown/periwinkle/midnight blue/or peach dress.

Sure, I'll attend your wedding.

I'll eat the free food.

Drink the free drinks (I pass on cash bars, but best wishes anyway).

Dance awkwardly to the free music.

I'll even give you cash, so you don't have to jack around with a check before you take off on your Hawaiian honeymoon.

But please. Please don't ask me to stand up for you.

I'm really not your girl.

I barely like running errands for myself, let alone some psychotic bridezilla. So I'd definitely disappoint.

I was a pretty laid back bride—seriously, ask any of my bridesmaids—and I pretty much just told them when to show up.

But most aren't like me.

Most are bridezillas.

And so my friend and I were talking and something occurred to me:

Even though I don't want to be in your wedding, I want to be asked to be in your wedding (which, unfortunately, means I'd most likely be in it).

I want to be one of the Chosen Ones.

The Ones that are looked at by the attendees as the "closest friends of the bride."

The Ones that tramp around the wedding (no pun intended, I'm a married woman), as a gang, joined together by their ill-fitting dresses and their matching shoes.

Because when you're not in a wedding, you kind of look at the bridal party as...royalty.

They float throughout the room, entertaining, hosting, garnering stares from everyone else.

[Wait, there's a flash of fuchsia! Yes, that was One of Them. Excitement ripples throughout the room.]

They are holding court, and we, the Unchosen, are simply looking at them. Through a window.

They dance around, lounge about, carry their shoes.

The Untouchables.

And who doesn't love that feeling?

And these girls are nothing special.

Without the shimmering piece of bright cloth that only looks good on 2/3 of them, they are just like us.

They put their pants on one leg at a time. Just like us.

But for that one night...we all want a little piece of that magic.

Now I know this sounds hypocritical.

But I want my wedding cake and I want to eat it, too.

I do have some single friends that will eventually take that marital leap.

And as much as I will inwardly roll my eyes when and if I'm asked to be a part of the whole thing, I will inevitably smile, and nod my head yes.

Because I know I will be transformed that night. In my own head (see the title of this blog).

I'll know that the bride will just be a sidekick to my performance that night.

All eyes will be on me. And my gang of colorful cohorts.

So go ahead. Ask me to be in your wedding.

Trust me. I'll say yes.